


Final Thanksgiving 7

by salvainterra



Series: Craigslistverse [1]
Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous Relationships, Cloud's Barely Repressed Homicidal Tendencies, Comedy, Fenrir - Freeform, Multi, Zack and Aerith are both poly, based off that one craigslist ad, this is literally just a shitpost in story form
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 05:51:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12474876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salvainterra/pseuds/salvainterra
Summary: Cloud ruins the Annual Shinra Holiday Gala through pure force of will alone.





	Final Thanksgiving 7

“Cloud?”

 

Cloud looked up from the youtube tutorial on soap carving he had been watching for the last half hour. His mom stood in the doorway, hands clasped together behind her back and face set in a hopeful expression. He raised a curious eyebrow. “Yeah?”

 

She stepped further into the room. “Well, I know you don’t want to come home to Nibelheim with me for Thanksgiving,” she ignored Cloud’s snort, “but that doesn't mean you should spend the holiday all alone, honey. I know that you and Tifa were close for a while before we moved, so since she just moved here as well to start that business of hers, I went to ask her what her plans are for the evening.”

 

Cloud bit back a groan. It wasn’t like he didn’t like Tifa, but... The whole deal with him and Tifa suddenly making a bizarre blood-pact-esque promise based on both of their rampant insecurities had certainly   _seemed_ like a good idea when he was fourteen, but now that he hadn't even made the bare minimum of the goals he’d been so sure he could achieve, it seemed more like the most embarrassing thing he'd done that year. (Considering he had been _fourteen_ , that was saying a lot.) Tifa had moved into Midgar a few months ago, but they were still awkwardly dancing around actually talking to each other like sensible adults. It was a good thing he’d trained himself out of feeling base emotions like shame a long time ago, or else the avoidance might actually weigh on him.

 

“And,” His mom continued, drawing her hand out from behind her back, “I got this from her.” She extended the crumpled paper to him, and, at her prompting, he opened it fully, revealing it to be a flyer. He studied the garishly colored font.

 

**SHINRA THANKSGIVING GET-TOGETHER**

 

**MEET & GREET THE LEADERS OF SHINRA CORP**

 

**NOVEMBER 24TH, 6:00- 10:00 PM**

 

**DINNER AND DRINKS PROVIDED**

 

**FORMAL WEAR RECOMMENDED**

 

**SAVE THE DATE & BRING A DATE!**

 

Oh, _fuck_ no. He looked up at his mom’s semi-apologetic expression. “Ma,” he said, trying to think of a way to express this sentiment without using words that would get him threatened with soap to the mouth.

 

She cut him off before he could. “Honey, I know you don't like the company after what happened in Nibelheim. But, this could be a big opportunity for _both_ of you! Tifa’s told me all about how she hopes to get funding for her bar, and maybe you could find someone looking to employ a hard worker like yourself, so you don't have to be away from home all the time on those dangerous delivery jobs?”

 

Something of his opinion on getting hired by someone from a _Shinra_ party -- over staying with his perfectly respectable, if tiny, delivery service and the cranky retired pilot who ran it -- must have shown on his face, because his mother sighed like he was being particularly difficult. To be fair, he probably was. “At least _go,_ won't you? You don't have to do anything except enjoy yourself and treat Tifa well, alright?” she said, already laying out negotiations even though he hadn't agreed to anything. He tried not to crack under her expectant gaze.

 

“Look, Ma… I've been really busy lately…” He glanced away towards his computer monitor, which showed his progress halfway through a fifty minute video of something he'd never tried and never intended to try. He could feel his resolve falter slightly. An icon on his bookmarked pages caught his eye, and he straightened imperceptibly, struck by an idea.

 

“Ah. That's right, I can't go because I've already got plans. With someone else. They're counting on me. Can't let them down.” He uttered in a monotone.

 

“Y--” his mother blinked. “You do? With who?”

 

Cloud wondered if he should feel offended at the amount of surprise in her voice. Probably not. “...An old friend. I’ll introduce you sometime.”

 

“Are you--?” Her question was interrupted by the light default jingle of his phone getting a call. Cloud mentally thanked whoever was looking out for him.

 

“Ah. That’s probably them now with details. I should take this.”

 

After a few more vague reassurances, his mother was finally dissuaded from her original suggestion, though she gave him a sharp look that meant he had better keep his word. Cloud answered the call.

 

“Hello? Hey, kid, get your ass over here already! We’ve got goddamn customers waiting, and your fucking shift started ten minutes ago!”

 

“Mhmm.” Cloud tabbed out of the soap carving video, and opened Craiglist. “Yeah, I'm on my way. Be there soon.” He hung up and started typing.

 

[_Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad?_ ](http://media.ifunny.com/results/2015/11/30/ptm745ih2f.jpg)

 

_***_

 

He hadn’t expected to get a response for at least a few days, so it was a surprise to come home from another evening of miscellaneous package running to a small notification icon on his browser. When he opened it, the email message was brief but full of a surprising amount of exclamation points.

 

_hey! saw your ad while looking for weights and realized that you are exactly the kind of person i need to bring to my buddy’s family’s party! if you are still doing the thing, we should meet up at a cafe or something and exchange particulars!! (^:_

 

_Zack_

 

Not particularly formal, but to the point. If “Zack”’s intent was to make him curious, they were successful. Exactly the kind of person to bring to a friend’s party…? Was the friend being helped or harmed, here? He _did_ mention most of his more questionable traits and talents in that ad, didn't he? Maybe the guy just wanted his organs. That smiley face was truly menacing. He considered the likeliness of getting mugged for a moment, before deciding that if it was at a public place he _probably_ wouldn't get fatally injured. And hey, if he ended up in the hospital, that was a hell of an excuse for not attending that dinner party! Win-win for him.

 

_I am still doing the thing. Meet you at Sugarbrook Cafe tomorrow at 10:30 am._

 

_Cloud_

 

_***_

 

The next morning found him sitting at one of the tiny two-person booths at Sugarbrook, nursing a mild headache and a foam cup of espresso. It took until he was paying for his drink to realize that he had no idea what the person he was meeting looked like, and vice versa. Whoops. He’d been watching people come in since 10, and none of them had really looked like they were seeking someone out. A lot of them had gone about their own business and left, a few possibly sparing a thought for that blonde stranger trying to initiate meaningful eye contact with them for some reason. He took another sip from his coffee, and glanced at the clock. 10:28.

 

The small bell on the door jingled lightly to indicate a newcomer, and he automatically jerked up to look at the door, absently noting that he would get whiplash if he kept this up. He squinted at the newest occupant, trying to figure out if he was the type of person to consistently use exclamation points at the end of a sentence.

 

The stranger was a bit taller than him, and had hair that was similar to his, if he had black hair, and also dunked his locks in a tub of hair gel every morning before walking out the door. He scanned the cafe with ridiculously bright blue eyes, and the bridge of his nose crinkled when he grinned at a passing barista. He was still smiling when he met Cloud’s eyes, and stopped there, presumably because Cloud was the only one in the cafe staring at him like an idiot. Cloud raised both eyebrows and made no further expression, not breaking the impromptu staring contest. If he accidentally initiated it, he’d at least _win_.

 

“Cloud?” The man said at a normal volume, despite the fact that it was a quiet cafe and Cloud was across the room. Maybe all the exclamation points were actually to signify how loud he talked, since this was clearly probably Zack. Or potentially an underworld criminal that ‘Zack’ is working for who is now here to steal and sell his organs. But really, probably Zack. Cloud lowered his eyebrows and nodded, turning his attention back to his drink as Probably Zack approached. He moved surprisingly quickly. And loudly. Was he clomping around in metal-toed combat boots or something? Maybe the exclamation points were just part of his natural aura.

 

Probably Zack sat on the other side of the booth, and Cloud almost felt pity at the pathetic wheeze the foam cushion made under him. How much did he weigh? He was certainly muscular, just going by the biceps he was displaying with his ridiculous and yet vaguely familiar sleeveless sweater. He made eye contact again, recognizing the other’s current expression as eerily similar to Tifa’s patented ‘my eyes are up here’ face, but with more amused patience. Whoops. He coughed into his hand.

 

“Zack, right?”

 

“Yep, and you’re Cloud.”

 

“Yeah.” Cloud abruptly realized that it was maybe rude to have a drink when the person he was meeting didn’t. Whoops. Shit. “...Did you want a coffee or something?”

 

“Nah, caffeine makes me jittery.” Watching how he was already shifting every few seconds like he had excess energy to burn, Cloud could believe it. “Anyhow, lemme get right down to it,” he said, face set, “Every year, my buddy -- we’ll call him Seth -- is required to go to this big fancy thanksgiving dinner, or else his asshole father will give him absolute hell later. Naturally, I gotta attend too, because his only other two friends fucked off after some company scandal, and so I’ve got to be his support system for the night so he doesn’t murder everyone in the room. You understand?”

 

“Yes.” Cloud said. _Not even remotely_ , he thought.

 

“Great! Okay, so the problem is that I normally take my kind-of girlfriend Aer...ys, right, I take Aerys to these things, but this year her volunteer event thing is going on at the same time, and she also hates Seth’s family, because of another scandal. His family is kind of super fucky, honestly. Anyways, she can’t come, and so I was kind of floundering on who to subject to the utter torture that is all of those smarmy bastards together in one room, and then I saw your ad! And now we’re here!”

 

Cloud leaned forwards to rest his chin on his palm. “Wow. You are really selling me on this whole dinner date thing, what with the kind-of girlfriend and the smarmy bastards and the scandals.” The obviously-thought-up-on-the-spot names were a nice touch.

 

Zack looked like he was about to start off on another probably-not-convincing tangent, so Cloud took pity. It wasn’t like he hadn’t dealt with those things before. Apart from the kind-of girlfriend(???). Whatever this event was, it couldn’t compare to last time, since _those_ smarmy bastards/scandals were Shinra, and therefore the worst possible. “Fortunately for you, I am also looking to avoid somewhat overbearing parental figures, and I _did_ say that I was for hire to essentially destroy the entire dinner for all parties involved. Possibly even taint all Thanksgiving dinners for the foreseeable future. That’s what you want, right? Because that’s what you’re signing up for here.”

 

Zack grinned, slightly less innocent this time. No less charming. “That’s _exactly_ what I had in mind.” He paused, smile faltering slightly. “Oh, yeah, you might’ve guessed but Seth’s family is kinda super influential? In politics and the government and all that? Don’t worry though, me and Seph have enough sway to make sure you can get off scot free, regardless of chaos caused. I’m guessing Cloud isn’t your real name, so you’ve already got an alias!”

 

Cloud sipped from his coffee in place of responding, hiding a wry smile. He’d done a lot since coming to Midgar, only some of it legal. They always thought it was an alias.

 

“Sounds like a plan.”

 

Zack beamed at him, and slid an ominously familiar flyer across the table, scattering some crumbs in the process. Cloud felt his stomach sink. He picked up the flyer with the gravitas of a man being sentenced to death. Hideously colored text greeted him.

 

“That’s the address for the place, don’t worry about getting in though. Seth’s family is having a more exclusive dinner, that’s the one we’re going to. Kinda like a VIP dinner?”

 

Cloud stared blankly at the flyer. Looked up at Zack. Back down to the flyer. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. He felt goddamn cartoonish, but it still wasn’t registering fully. Zack was beginning to look concerned. “You okay there buddy?”

 

He set the flyer down with the same delicate tenderness one placing an armed bomb might use. He closed his eyes. He inhaled deeply and held his breath.

 

“Uh… Cloud? Do you… need help or anything?”

 

“Could I get help in the form of a hammer to the goddamn skull?” Cloud muttered lowly.  
  
“What?”  
  
“What. Nothing.” Cloud wondered how long it would take to pass out if he just held his breath for as long as possible. Deciding it wasn’t worth the effort, he exhaled in one big whoosh of air.

 

“Alright,” he said, standing up with the remnants of his lukewarm coffee in hand, “I’m still doing this, because I’m not going to skip out on an opportunity to ruin something of Shinra’s, so I’m going to go start making preparations. It’s going to turn out awful, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it. I’ll pick you up at 6.”

 

He tossed his cup in the bin and saluted Zack, who appeared to still be processing that whole spiel, with two fingers in farewell before walking out of the cafe. He pulled out his phone, and started scrolling down his rather extensive contact list. He had a business dinner to ruin.

 

____

  


Zack studied his reflection in the mirror, straightening his collar and pulling at the top button, wondering if he could get away with leaving it open. Potentially? He jumped as his hands were swatted at. “You’re fidgeting,” Aerith told him, balancing an empty holiday dish in her other hand, “your date must be something, to get you so worked up.”

 

“Me? Worked up? Never.” He scratched at the back of his neck distractedly, and Aerith paused, her teasing grin shifting to worry.

 

“What’s wrong, Zack?”

 

Zack moved to carry the plate for her, and she relinquished it with a hint of that amusement she always wore when Zack insisted on pushing her cart or moving furniture for her, like she didn’t quite get why he was doing it, but thought it was sweet nonetheless. She followed him into the kitchen, and he set the turkey-shaped platter down on the counter before answering.

 

“I’m… just not sure what to expect. Cloud is kind of hard to get a read on, but I’m pretty sure he really hates the company.” His reaction at their meeting was... telling, to say the least. “I think taking him will at least divert some of the attention Seph always has to deal with at these things, but I don’t want it to be at the cost of him getting hurt, y’know?”

 

Aerith started loading her handmade sandwiches into the platter, lining them up evenly. “Hm… If he shows up before I have to leave, I can take a look at him for you, see if anything sets me off.”

 

Zack had started braiding her hair for lack of anything else to keep his fingers occupied, and he paused. “Would you? It’d be a load off my shoulders if tonight had your stamp of approval.”

 

Aerith hummed in agreement, and some of the tension in Zack’s body relaxed. Ever since he’d known her, her gut feelings about certain things were never wrong. It was mostly helpful in cases of ‘should I bring an umbrella today’ or ‘now is the right time to switch those potted tomatoes over into the garden’, but occasionally was used for bigger things. Last time, it had been her convincing him to turn down a mission request, and then later finding out that the mission had been boosted several levels in classification and Seph, who had been on it, seemed off for weeks after, but refused to talk about it. He wasn’t sure what would have changed if he’d been there, but Aerith always got that worried crease between her eyebrows when he mentioned it, so he left it alone. Her gift was part of the reason she disliked Shinra Corp so much, although he didn’t know the specifics and hadn’t pried.

 

He jumped slightly as the doorbell echoed through the house, and Aerith giggled at him. “Speak of the devil,” he grumbled, and held up the finished plate while Aerith wrapped it in plastic. “That the last one?” He shifted the plate to balance on one hand. She nodded, and went to grab her jacket while Zack walked to the door.

 

It squeaked as he tugged it open, and he made a mental note to oil those hinges for the seventh time that month. Cloud stood there, face looking about as carved from stone as it had before, with a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. He looked more like he was about to get hurled bodily into a mosh pit at a rock concert than attend a formal dinner, what with the leather jacket and torn jeans. Zack half expected him to be balancing a nail bat against his shoulder. The motorcycle still running behind Aerith’s van certainly didn’t do anything to dismiss the image. Amazing. “Hi,” he greeted with a grin, before brushing past him, careful not to knock him with the ceramic plate, “just a sec, gotta put this in the van.”

 

Pulling the side door open, he set the platter on top of the box of plastic utensils on the floor in front of the seat, making sure it wasn’t going to move around during the drive. He stepped back to look at the seat consideringly, and then leaned in to buckle the seatbelt around the boxes of canned food. “Much better!” He mused to himself, hands on his hips. Job done, he swung the door shut and started back up the drive.

 

Zack made it to the porch in time to see Aerith laughing with Cloud’s hands clasped in her own smaller ones -- which was an excellent sign -- and hear the tail end of something that _sounded_ like “Keep him out of trouble for me, won’t you? Goodness knows he can get himself into it just fine,” but had to be something else, because he was an absolute angel who never got into trouble, and Aerith knew this, obviously. Cloud still looked like he was trying to act out the role of someone watching paint dry for 10 hours, but with an added element of blankness that Zack normally saw on Seph’s face when someone was doing something he didn’t know how to respond to. In fact, Seph probably made the same face when meeting Aerith for the first time, too. She had that effect on people.

 

“I hope you’re not fouling my good name in front of my date, Chuckles!” He said in a tone of mock offense, slinging his arm around Cloud’s shoulders. The blond tilted forwards a bit with the force of it. Whoops. At least he seemed distracted by Zack’s incredible biceps. Again. Honestly, the guy should see his thigh muscles. Wait, no, that came out wrong. No showing off his incredible squat-endowed hips on the first date.

 

Aerith broke into giggles, even snorting a little. Adorable. “What good name? Any date of yours deserves to know what they’re getting into! I still remember the picnic-turned-robbery thwarting, y’know!”

 

“Aww, c’mon, that was ages ago though! Plus, I’d never have learned about your talent with quarterstaffs if you hadn’t smashed that one guy’s nose with a tree branch to save me from getting shot! It was so _romantic._ ”

 

Zack closed his eyes, held the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically, and swooned. When it became obvious that Aerith was going to watch him fall on his ass with a smile on her face, Cloud dropped the helmet and caught him around the torso to keep him from smashing his head onto the concrete, looking mildly bemused. Zack winked at Aerith from his upside down perspective. She rolled her eyes, but was still smiling.

 

“And they say romance is dead,” he said, craning his neck up to grin at Cloud, who was squinting at the torso in his grip like he was trying to figure out exactly what he was supposed to do next. Zack pushed himself back upright before the other man could settle on just dropping him, and squatted to scoop up the helmet. “Anyways, we don’t want to be late, so let’s get moving!”

 

“Just a second. You mind if I leave something here at your house? I’ll pick it up when I drop you off.” Cloud hiked a thumb back at his parked motorcycle. Zack and Aerith shared a glance, and then Zack shrugged, “Sure, go ahead.” They watched as Cloud walked to his bike and then past it, to a truck with tinted windows idling on the other side of the road. He jumped into the back and lifted a luggage carrier out and onto the ground. He then maneuvered a large, wooden box out of the truck bed and onto the wheeled carrier. He tapped the top of the truck with his hand twice before jumping out and pushing his burden up the drive. Behind him, the vehicle took off.

 

“Ah.” Aerith said.

 

“Aerith,” Zack said, very carefully, “I’m pretty sure that’s a coffin.”  
  
Aerith’s expression was a muted mixture of astonishment and smug glee, undoubtedly because this was a sure sign that Zack’s evening was going to be something to behold, and she was going to get to hear every bit of it when he got back, without suffering through any potential consequences, the way he probably would for bringing a guy-who-left-dusty-coffins-at-people’s-homes to a Shinra banquet. “It sure does look that way. Just leave it in the living room, Cloud,” she said, as though this was completely fine and normal.

 

There was a pause as Cloud went inside, presumably to place the coffin where instructed.

 

“...He _did_ have convicted felon on that ad.”

 

“I’m sure it’s fine, Zack.”

 

“Do you think that coffin is empty, Aerith?”

 

“Everything’s fine, Zack.”

 

“Isn’t Kunsel supposed to be home soon--?”  
  
She shot him a dry smile. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. We’ve left weirder things laying around before.”

 

“...Unfortunately true.” Zack conceded.

 

Cloud dusted his hands off as he came back out onto the porch. “Alright, I’m ready.”

 

Aerith checked the time on her phone, and quickly stepped into her shoes, pulling her keys out of her pocket. “I should be going too, good luck you two! Remember what I said about getting into trouble, Cloud!”

 

“...Not to get caught?”

 

“You got it! Alrighty, seeya!” She trotted down the drive to her van and started it up, blowing them a kiss from inside before pulling away from the curb and heading out.

 

“So… She’s the kind-of girlfriend?” Cloud asked, blandly. Zack grinned at his tone.

 

“Yup, lives here and splits rent with me and Kunsel, and sometimes we do kind-of dates? It’s all really,” here he made a wiggly shrugging gesture with his hands and shoulders, “y’know?”

 

Cloud stared at him, with a look that Zack didn’t think he, having just wheeled a dusty old coffin into somebody else’s house with no explanation whatsoever, had the right to wear without seeming a bit hypocritical. “Not at all, but whatever works.” Cloud stole the helmet from between his fingers and plonked it onto Zack’s head, ignoring his squawks about his hair. It took forever to make his spikes manageable, damnit!

 

He grumbled as he followed Cloud down the drive, where the man swung his leg over his motorcycle and tilted his head to the back of the seat in offering. Zack hopped on, not one to shy away from trying new things, regardless of possible danger and/or potential for fiery high-speed explosion-heavy death. Cloud, conspicuously _not_ wearing a helmet like a hypocrite who potentially also had a death wish, pulled on a pair of biking goggles and revved the engine.   

 

“Let’s mosey.”

 

Zack’s startled laugh morphed into a yell as Cloud slammed on the gas, and before he could say(yell) anything, they turned a corner without dropping speed and tilted so far sideways that he suddenly couldn’t think about anything but not dying.

 

\---

 

The lobby of the Shinra building was already bustling by the time they got there, and the music was loud enough to almost drown out the lingering buzzing in his ears from travelling down the highway at a bountifully illegal speed. Zack ran a hand through his hair, trying to fix the spikes. Cloud’s hair looked suspiciously unchanged, considering he didn't wear a helmet, and Zack wondered if his spikes were just a result of looking perpetually windswept as a rule. He tried to re-gather his thoughts, but was distracted by a muffled yelp. He squinted at Cloud, who blinked guilelessly back at him. There was another yelp. Zack’s consternation must have been obvious, because Cloud obligingly turned around, giving Zack clear view of his backpack.

 

His backpack, which currently had a small, furry face poking out curiously. Zack reached out to pet it automatically and the tiny thing poked its entire head out to bump into the touch.

 

“You brought a dog,” Zack said, belatedly. There was a small woof as Cloud nodded, and then crouched. Easy as that, the little dog wriggled out of the bag and hopped onto the floor, immediately scrambling over to sit on Zack’s shoes. It was a pomeranian the size of one of his shoes, and wearing a tiny fluorescent orange vest. Zack felt a little faint. Cloud gestured politely to the puppy. “Zack, this is Fenrir. Fenrir, Zack.” The newly introduced Fenrir sneezed, and then lay down fully on his shoes. Zack knew with absolute certainty that he would die for this dog.

 

“Why did you bring your dog? What if someone sees him?” Zack resisted the urge to crouch over the dog and hide him from view. Cloud shrugged, unconcerned. “They can’t kick him out. It’s illegal to ask for registration for service dogs.”

 

“A service dog? He’s so talented!” Zack gave in and crouched, reaching to scratch at the puppy’s head. Fenrir butted his face into Zack’s fingers with the regality of a king getting his dues, and then nipped at one finger and bounced away, bumping into Cloud’s foot. Cloud scooped the dog into the crook of his elbow and stood, looking rather unruffled for someone having his finger gnawed on furiously. “So, what’s the plan?”

 

Zack blinked, and checked his watch. “Seph should be around here somewhere, probably drowning his sorrows in non-alcoholic beverages or something. Should we look around a bit for him?” Cloud glanced about the room consideringly. After a second, he shook his head.

 

“You go ahead, I’m going to look around here for a restroom. I’ll meet up with you here whenever you find him.”

 

Zack shrugged. “Alright, just be careful! Lots of creeps at Shinra parties.” He waved and started making his way through the crowd, smiling in apology whenever he bumped into someone. He went through three sections of the truly elaborate floor layout before finally catching a glimpse of silver hair above the crowd from meters away. And people called _him_ tall.

 

“Seph!” He said at a loud enough volume to be heard over the music, and broke the bubble of people too nervous to approach Seph by sliding into the spot next to him. He glanced at the glass of ginger ale in his curled hands and snorted. Predictable.

 

“Zack.” Seph didn't even bother giving him an exasperated look for the nickname, which meant he was already feeling the effects of the evening.

 

Zack patted his back sympathetically. “A bit draining, huh?”

 

Sephiroth’s gaze flickered upwards in an expression close to an eyeroll. “Indeed. I am not what one would call a party kind of person. If it weren’t for Hojo’s petulant need to place me in the public eye, I would be more than happy to spend the holiday in solitude.”

 

“Yikes. That’s ass, buddy.” Zack shot a glare at the nearest person snapchatting with their camera light on, and they quickly vanished into the crowd. “You could still totally bail out and have me kick Hojo’s ass if he bothers you?” He offered, already guessing the response.

 

“And watch you get fired within the hour? I’m not sure I could cope without you around.” Zack felt his mouth stretch into his best shit-eating grin. Before he could open his mouth and rib Seph about his slowly-emerging feelings of friendship, Seph cut him off with an arch, “Who else would I dump the more tedious paperwork on?” and raised an eyebrow, just for the added insult.

 

Zack laughed. It was good that Sephiroth at least felt okay enough to make jokes. It was a nice change from the generally distant attitude he took whenever he had to deal with unpleasant situations or people, for sure. He patted him on the back again, harder this time, and Seph tilted his drink to keep the liquid from jolting out of the cup. _There_ was the side-eye he’d been waiting to ignore.

 

“Well, you keep covering for my dates and I will be _delighted_ to keep sending the Turks tiny doodles of dicks in the margins of high-priority classified paperwork I’m not supposed to be reading.”

 

Seph narrowed his eyes at him. “You didn't.”

 

Zack grinned, unrepentantly. “Don't worry Seph, they can't throw me in jail if they can't prove it was me reading the reports!” Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. “Well, I mean, they could try to take me to court but think about what a production that would be. Me, an innocent, accused of such heinous crimes… You’ll vouch for me, right? At the very last minute, you can take the stand and admit that your secret shame has been your habit of compulsively drawing crude penis pics on classified paperwork, dooming yourself to a lifetime of dick jokes, but saving me from a lifetime in a cold, unforgiving prison.”

 

“I'm not posting bail for you, Zack. Enjoy your cell.”

 

“Wh-- you villain! See if I get you anything for your birthday!”

 

“How will I ever survive.”

 

Zack elbowed him in a completely ineffectual move, and then squatted a few times to get the blood pumping in his legs again. “Hey, so, speaking of surviving, I brought a different date this time to take some of the attention off you. And also because Aerith said no.”

 

“A… date?” Seph glanced around warily, something that was definitely uncalled for, seeing as Zack was _fantastic_ at judgment calls, thanks. Just look at Aerith! Light of his life, and only a few details of potentially life-endangering secrets not shared between them!

 

“Yeah, he’s something alright! I’m sure you'll get along great. I’ll go track him down and we can meet up at the refreshments table.”

 

He graciously ignored Seph’s suspicious grumbling, and made his exit. It only took a few minutes to retrace his steps, and soon enough Zack managed to spot his date’s unmistakeable puff of blonde hair (what was with all his friends’ distinctive haircuts?) and beeline for it.

 

“Oh good, you’re already at the refreshments table, I’ve got this friend who’s… What are you doing?” Zack trailed off, distracted.

 

Cloud looked up at him from where he was crouched by the side of the table, trying to blend in with the clashing tablecloth pattern. Fenrir was still tucked into his elbow. “Avoiding my past.” He said, and then went back to eyeing something across the room.

 

Zack followed his line of vision, and ended up at a small cluster of investors, their attention riveted on a dark-haired woman in a dress suit who was gesturing lightly as she spoke. As he watched, she handed out business cards, apparently networking. He looked back to Cloud.

 

“I don’t get it?”

 

“It’s like when you see someone from your high school in a local grocery store, but twenty times worse in every way. If she sees me, we WILL both die instantly,” Cloud responded, watching intently as the group moved to a different room, probably where the product presentations were being held. As soon as she was out of eyeshot, he stood back up and picked up a cup of punch with his dog-free hand, taking a long sip from it. “Alright, crisis over. What were you saying?”

 

Zack’s attention had switched to movement nearby, which quickly revealed itself as Sephiroth, parting the crowd around him like a hot sword through butter. They probably had like, thirty seconds before he got there. He turned back to Cloud.

 

“Hey, remember that friend I mentioned, well he’s here, and uh, meet him! Try to make a good impression so I can brag about my incredible choice in dates. This’ll make two out of three good dates I’ve initiated, which is a passing grade and then he can’t make fun of me for accidentally taking out a really devoted stalker that one time. Joke’s on him, I’ve had tons of bad dates he doesn’t know about.”

 

Cloud took a second to make the expressional equivalent of a buffering symbol, and then snorted as he set down his cup of miscellaneous punch. Zack glanced at Seph, who was approaching distractedly, looking over his shoulder at something across the room, and then gave Cloud a hearty double thumbs up. Cloud gave Zack a truly sardonic look, before turning to offer the hand not occupied with dog in greeting, saying “You must be Seth-,” before coming to a complete halt. And then, “Seth. Sethiroth. _Sephiroth._ ”  

 

Zack had half a second to suddenly wonder if he’d accidentally brought _another_ stalker on a date, or even worse, one of the Sephiroth fans that had tried to sneak into his apartment to steal his shampoo and stuff, before Cloud spoke again. “What the _fuck._ ” Well, that didn’t sound very fanboy-ish, Zack reflected, watching Cloud carefully. His expression was akin to someone who had just been hit over the head with something heavy, and he’d dropped his proffered hand like it was in danger of being removed.

 

Seph finally looked over at Zack with mild consternation, and then glanced at Cloud. And then did a double take, eyes widening in what was pretty much a deer-in-the-headlights expression, considering it was Sephiroth.

 

“Ah,” he said, staring at Cloud like he’d seen a ghost.

 

“Fuck off,” Cloud said in response. Zack blinked, but Sephiroth seemed completely unperturbed by this, and also very obviously did not fuck off. Cloud leaned back against the refreshment table without breaking eye contact, tension bunched in his shoulders.

 

Zack looked back and forth between the two, uncertain if he should step in. They both looked sort of tense. “Wait, wait wait, you guys _know_ each other?”

 

Cloud raised both his eyebrows at Seph, in a more aggressive version of an expression that Zack was beginning to recognize as ‘ball’s in your court now’, apparently unwilling to be the one to elaborate. Seph cleared his throat awkwardly.

 

“We’ve… had some encounters. They were… memorable.”

 

Cloud somehow managed to make a sound of disbelief and look incredibly unamused at the same time. Sephiroth continued to stare at Cloud with the barest hints of discomfort on his face. Zack frowned as he looked between them both, before drawing a conclusion he was at least 72% certain about.

 

They had _dated._ It was the only explanation! Sephiroth didn't act like this as a general rule, and Cloud looked like he was considering gutting the taller man with a dull butter knife. It made perfect sense!

 

It also, considering why Zack had brought Cloud, was an incredibly awkward coincidence.

 

“Cloud--” Seph started, stepping forwards, and then stopped as Cloud jolted back, bumped into the refreshments table, and fumbled at the cake platter behind him without looking. He withdrew with a cake knife clenched in his hand. It definitely should have been ridiculous, because it was a dull instrument meant for cutting cake, literally covered in frosting at that exact moment, but Seph was eyeing the metal tool ominously, as though it was a live snake Cloud was going to start flailing around like a poisonous whip or something.

 

Cloud himself looked like he wanted to simultaneously flee the country and decapitate Seph with a rusty shovel. It was a wildly contrasting expression for someone who was not only holding a piece of silverware emblazoned with ‘How Sweet Is It?’ on the handle, but also had a small Pomeranian tucked defensively under the other arm.

 

“Oi.” Zack said, frowning. “Please do not kill anybody.”

 

Cloud shot him a glance, which was progress from the diehard staring contest they’d been having so far. “...I’m not the one you should be telling that to.”

 

Sephiroth winced. Zack raised his eyebrows.

 

That must have one _hell_ of a bad breakup he had apparently never heard about. Him and Seph were going to have _words_ about this later.

 

“ _Weeeeeell,_ let’s just apply it as a general rule, to the entire room, **_you hear that everyone, no murder okay?_ ** ” He yelled the last bit, making nearly everyone in a twenty foot radius look over at them.

 

“ _Zack!”_ Cloud and Sephiroth said at the same time, with varying degrees of resignation and embarrassment. They looked at each other, and Zack took the opportunity to steal the cake knife from Cloud, who belatedly made a sour face, but didn’t protest.

 

“I’m sure you two can work out whatever weird history you have once this event is over, _not_ in the middle of a very public party full of people with twitter? Why don’t we all just get some punch and head over to the dining room, okay?” Zack said, placatingly. Cloud took a disconcerting amount of time to process his words, backing up a few steps before looking away from Sephiroth, and then picked up his cup. He stared as Zack reached for the handle of the serving ladle, before jumping slightly, as though startled.

 

“Oh. Actually, would advise against drinking the punch.” At Zack’s quizzical look, he elaborated, “I spiked the punch. Heavily.” He stared at the cup in his hands for a long moment, and then tipped it up, steadily consuming the entirety of its contents. Zack leaned over to smell the punch bowl, and then blanched. Cloud had apparently managed to put in enough alcohol content to override the fruity smell. For fuck’s sake. At least it was obvious.

 

“How are you going to enact plans if you’re just absolutely hammered the entire evening?” Zack asked, torn between curious and apprehensive. Sephiroth mouthed ‘plans?’ with a look of wary confusion. Cloud shifted to cradle Fenrir in his arms like an infant before answering.

 

“Listen. I work best like this, alright? It’ll be great, and I probably won't remember most of it, which is why it’ll be great. Let’s go.”

 

Zack shot him the most dubious look he could manage, and then shrugged and led the way.

 

***

 

Zack flashed his ID card at the security bouncer at the door, but oddly enough, the man was already reaching to unclip the rope as they approached. Maybe he recognized Sephiroth? Zack caught the man nodding at Cloud as he walked in, not even blinking twice at the puppy he held, and considered that in hindsight he probably shouldn’t have let Cloud wander off for any period of time.

 

The room arrangement was as extravagant as any other Shinra event, with a long, curved table stretching around the room in a thick ‘C’ shape, the open end of the letter facing the door. Chairs were spread along both sides of the table, facing each other. An artfully embroidered tablecloth was draped slightly over the edges of the table, and attendants were already moving around the room, setting dishes on heated platters and placing pitchers of various beverages within reach. The room was set with ambient lighting from the soft panels installed in the ceiling, and a ridiculously wide metal-wrought chandelier dripped with glass crystals above them.

 

Luckily, they were there a bit early, so there were still plenty of free seats. Zack turned to ask Seph what the plan was, but the man was staring narrow-eyed at some kind of argument brewing across the room. After a moment, he started towards it without so much as a farewell. Zack said a silent prayer for the poor souls involved, and then turned back to Cloud. “Any preference to where-?”  

 

“Well, well, who’s this now?” An unfortunately familiar voice cut him off. Zack allowed himself a moment of teeth-grinding irritation, before turning around to look behind him. The vice president looked back at him, wearing his default ‘I’m a smug and entitled asshole’ face. “Lieutenant Fair and his… accompanying guest? Do introduce us.”

 

Zack glanced at Cloud in offer, but he remained rather unhelpfully silent, leaving Zack to clear his throat and say, “This is Cloud, my date for the evening. Cloud, this is Rufus Shinra, the vice president.”

 

Cloud had no visible reaction to the name drop, and Rufus leaned forwards, interest piqued. He dismissed Zack entirely in favor of meeting and assessing Cloud’s mild gaze, before smiling his best faux-charming smile and gesturing to his attire.

 

“Why don’t you take off your jacket and stay a while, Cloud? We won’t chase you out into the cold.” His smile was as sharp and cunning as one would expect from the pseudo-leader of the Turks. Cloud stared at him blankly, still taking a worryingly long time to register, and then shrugged. He crouched to set down Fenrir, who immediately bounded over to lay on Zack’s shoes again.

 

“If you insist,” he said, unzipping his outer layer and sliding his arms out of the sleeves. Zack tried to get a look at the interior of the jacket -- because honestly if the man would try to _disembowel_ _Sephiroth_ armed with a cake server and a small dog, then who knew what he was packing -- but Cloud folded it over his arm in one smooth motion. Zack noticed Cloud’s edginess had settled slightly, covered with an air of near amusement. Then, a moment late, he finally noticed the shirt.

 

A bright, neon blue, the completely informal t-shirt displayed warped comic sans text reading **SEX MACHINE** in an unfortunate shade of maroon.

 

Zack forgot to inhale for a moment, feeling the most bizarre mixture of astonishment and hilarity at the sheer gall it would take to wear a shirt that ill-advised to a Shinra formal dinner, combined with the absolutely priceless expression of befuddlement that flashed across Rufus’s face, and then the offense when he realized Cloud was _fucking with him._

 

“Something wrong?” Cloud said.

 

Zack’s finely tuned Disaster Sensor finally kicked in, five minutes late as always. “Well, lovely as always talking to you, VP! Man, is that the time already? Gotta go find a seat, bye!” He picked up Fenrir in one hand, clapped his other hand on Cloud’s shoulder, and steered them both to a place unoccupied by Rufus Shinra at high speeds. As soon as they reached what Zack deemed to be a safe range, he leaned forwards onto Cloud, heaving a huge sigh of relief. Then, finally, he started laughing, muffling the sound against Cloud’s shoulder. “Holy -- holy shit, dude,” he wheezed, “nice shirt, oh my god.”

 

“Thanks,” Cloud said. He looked a little more relaxed now. “I made it myself.”

 

He had to wait out another fit of wheezing laughter at that, before Zack finally spoke again. “I would say -- say to watch out for Turks, but honestly, I think you’d win over at least half of them before they could attempt to steal your identity, or something.”

 

“What identity?” Cloud said in a monotone, before watching unhelpfully as Fenrir got sick of being held and almost squirmed right out of Zack’s hand. He set the puppy down, and then observed with concern as the tiny dog sneezed and clumsily ran off, avoiding the feet of startled guests with ease. “Don’t worry,” Cloud reassured him, “Fen knows his way around. He’s smart.” His slight wry smile suddenly faltered, and he rose to his feet stiffly.

 

“That looked interesting.” Sephiroth commented mildly from where he was now suddenly standing next to them again, with suspiciously good timing. Zack spared a worried glance at Cloud’s carefully blank expression, before giving Seph a look.

 

“Interesting. Sure, that’s one word for it.” Zack side-eyed him. “Of course, your convenient departure and return had nothing to do with our chance encounter with Shinra Junior, huh?”

 

“Of course.” Seph replied, not even a twitch in his expression.

 

Zack rolled his eyes. “Don’t think I’m afraid to spit in your coffee machine. Go sit down, jackass.” At Sephiroth’s raised eyebrow, he amended, “So sorry, go sit down, _General_ Jackass.”

 

Following his own advice, Zack quickly grabbed the nearest pair of seats and pulled a chair out for Cloud, mentally giving himself a point when Cloud’s mouth did an almost-smile at the gesture. He seemed a bit more relaxed now that Sephiroth was busy circling a different table for no real reason other than to make the executives uncomfortable. It was always funny to watch him be petty.

 

Eventually, Seph settled in between a woman Zack didn’t know, and the head of Urban Development (his name was Reece or something?), who was maintaining a veneer of polite interest that was only slightly undermined by his frequent blinking and muffled yawn.

 

Watching Cloud’s lax expression, Zack could only hope that the evening would stay calm enough to nearly fall asleep in. He wasn't sure how much shock these bigwigs’ feeble hearts could take in one night, after all.

 

***

 

“How do you _lose_ your _date?!”_ Seph hissed at him 20 minutes later, scanning the room with disbelief.

 

“By not cherishing them.” Zack said solemnly, before holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender at Sephiroth’s glare. “Okay, okay, I don't know, alright? He was there one minute and then the whole thing with the glitterbombs happened” -- he tripped over his words a bit, trying not to laugh as he glanced at the incredible coating of blue and purple glitter clinging onto Seph’s long hair -- “and afterwards he vanished like dust in the wind. Glitter in the wind.”

 

He ducked his head to hide his grin as Seph glared at him, unsurprised at Cloud’s quick escape in the face of all the glitter-struck guests’ wrath. Honestly, Zack was still amazed at how much glitter could be ejected from those smallish tubes. He was remarkably unscathed from the attack, and the glitter that did get on him he didn’t really mind. It was fun to watch it fall out of his hair whenever he moved. He was sure his suitemates would be complaining about glitter in the shower drains for ages, though.

“Have any of you seen First Class Fair’s date? Blonde, dull-eyed, wearing a shirt with the words ‘sex machine’ on it in bold text?”

 

Oh, right, lost Cloud. Zack watched Sephiroth practically shake down the dinner staff, many of which looked near faint at witnessing the words ‘sex machine’ come out of the esteemed General’s mouth.

 

One attendant with dual-toned red and black hair pointed over his shoulder. “I saw some guy crawling into the vents?” He looked a little offended about it.

 

“The vents-?” The light in the room flickered strangely, and people started murmuring and gasping in alarm around them. Seph looked up, and paled. Zack did not look up. Zack sat back down at his seat and contemplated the effects of eating glitter-doused mashed potatoes. Slowly, Sephiroth sat down next to him. He was still looking at the ceiling.

“He was not like this when I knew him. Zack, as one of the most prominent corrupting figures in my life at the present, I blame you for this.”

 

“Mmm.” Zack said through a mouthful of potato, not even pretending to actually respond. Above him, he heard the sound of crystals bumping into each other.

 

“Wow,” Cloud said, with remarkable levity for someone hanging upside-down from a chandelier, “You guys really got your money’s worth out of this thing, huh?”

 

Across the room, President Shinra appeared to be slowly building up to bursting a blood vessel. Combined with the glitter, it wasn’t a good look. “Control your -- your _companion_ , Second-Class Fair!”

 

Zack tried not to snort at what might be the funniest thing he’d heard all evening. And that was _including_ Reno’s reaction to having a glitter bomb popped open over his head. “Right. Totally. No problem. Hey, Cloud, you’re going to break that thing. And probably also your neck, in the process.”

 

“No way, like I said, whoever made this knew what they were doing.” Cloud twisted back to grab another metal arm in a move that would’ve snapped Zack’s spine in two. “I’ve climbed tons of chandeliers; the ameteur ones are the ones that fall apart. Or, I guess, if they’re installed wrong, that’ll make ‘em give out, too.” Something in the ceiling creaked. Reeve surreptitiously moved his chair back, looking very awake and far too entertained.

 

“How many chandeliers _have_ you fallen from, for reference?”

 

“Enough that I now know how to _not_ do that. Besides, it’s getting caught in them you have to worry about. And candles.”  
  
Zack stared at the angle Cloud’s leg was currently bending at. “Caught as in, like, stuck?”  
  
Cloud nodded upside down, nonchalant. “Oh yeah. It’s not a party until you get tangled up in a chandelier and someone who you owe money to tries to waterboard you with a discarded skirt and cheap fruit punch.”

 

“Man, we’ve definitely had different party experiences. Why would you climb on a chandelier in the first place?”

 

“Practice for pole dancing competitions at the Honey Bee Inn. Gotta step your game up if you wanna win.”

 

“Pole dancing--? I don't think that’s even possible on a chandelier?”

 

“I could always come down and show you personally.” Despite the complete lack of inflection in Cloud’s voice, Zack choked on air, thumping a fist against his chest as he coughed.

 

“No, that’s fine, you just- Stay up there.” At the President’s outraged glare, Zack shrugged in a what-can-ya-do sort of manner.

 

“No, no, I insist.” What. No. “Look, I even found the maintenance handle for this sucker. Check it.” Zack jerked at a metallic clank, and then watched in horror as the chandelier dropped three feet, and then another meter, in jerky, abrupt descents until it was resting about a foot above a sweet potato dish. Cloud leaned his head back and coughed. “Ow.”

 

Before Zack could even really get worked up about Cloud’s fourth near-death experience of the evening or the fact that he apparently still intended to try and kill Zack via pole dancing, the doors to the room slammed open, making near everyone jump. Zack turned to see a man standing on the threshold, wearing an outfit that could only be described as western gothic, and a dead-eyed expression. He scanned the room, with obvious distaste, before stopping at Cloud.

 

“I thought you said this was a Halloween party,” the man said in a monotone, with the attitude of a man resigned to his inevitable death.

 

“Vincent! You’re here! And you _said the line!_ ” Cloud crowed from where he was still a knot of twisted limbs on the chandelier. A few feet away, Sephiroth very unsubtly choked on his drink, which he had been sipping casually during the chaos. Served him right.

 

The newly named Vincent smoothly made his way to the part of the table where Cloud was suspended, and somehow disentangled him in one motion, lifting him off the table and setting him on the floor with eerie ease. He removed his cloak to drape it around Cloud, revealing another cloak underneath that one. Zack squinted. How deep did this go.

 

Cloud swayed, a bit unsteady, and grabbed Zack’s shoulder for support, distracting him from potentially trying to decloak a complete stranger. Fenrir suddenly reappeared, having practically vanished during the evening despite being a very noticeable dog, and attacked Vincent’s pointy shoes viciously. Vincent didn't even acknowledge it.

 

“Are you… Vincent Valentine? _The_ Vincent Valentine?” Heads turned to look at Rufus, who had risen from his chair. “But you -- you’re dead!”

 

Cloud laughed, loud in the somewhat awkward silence. Rufus looked kind of infuriated. Vincent, who had somehow removed the dog from his shoes without ever bending down, placed Fenrir in Cloud’s arms and stepped in front of him, glancing around the room full of important executives dismissively before speaking.

 

“Reports of my death are… greatly exaggerated.”

 

Cloud snorted from where Fenrir was trying to climb onto his shoulder and nose at his cheek at the same time. Vincent ignored him.

 

“I have merely been estranged all these years.” With this incredibly vague statement said, he pulled out a chair that had been abandoned during the glitter fiasco, and sat in it. Unbothered, Cloud sat back down next to Zack and subtly pushed the plate of glitter-seasoned potatoes out of reach, putting Fenrir on the table instead. The puppy, who was apparently all tired out from… doing whatever he was doing throughout the party, curled up into a ball, unruffled.

 

The room broke into murmurs, but it looked like both Shinras had been pulled out of the room by Turks, and without them there, it seemed nobody had the courage to confront the stranger. Which was fair, seeing as he was very intimidating, and potentially a being made completely out of dusty cloaks.

 

“So,” Cloud said, seeming much more at ease with an escaped Dracula understudy at his side, “anyone got embarrassing stories about Zack?”

 

“What? Why me?” Zack complained, knowing without looking that Seph was gearing up to destroy his pride.

 

“Embarrassing stories are the best way to get to know someone.” Cloud said, unfazed.

 

“On one occasion, Zack decided to ‘make ramen in his mouth’.” Sephiroth said, ignoring the way Cloud’s hand spasmed around a steak knife when he started speaking, apparently completely subconsciously. Zack made a note to try and remove all remotely sharp objects from the vicinity.

 

“Seph, _no_.” Zack pleaded. Seph completely ignored him, like an asshole.

 

“He attempted to hold dry noodles, seasoning, and boiling water in his mouth simultaneously, leading to second degree burns, a trip to the emergency med bay, and a permanent discoloration of my carpet where the water spilled. Very unfortunate.” Sephiroth looked completely serious, and Zack groaned, “It was _one time,_ at 4 in the morning, I just wanted a quick snack, c’mon! Let it die!”

 

Cloud patted him clumsily on the back, as though he hadn't instigated this and wasn’t relishing his exasperation.

 

“Well, no worries. I was glued to the side of a Shinra reactor for two hours once as a kid. I was dared to lick it and I was around 12 so, naturally, I did it. The boredom was the worst part of it; I ended up just going with the band aid method; y’know, rip it off all at once.” Cloud occupied himself with a mouthful of miraculously glitter-free creamed corn for a moment, seemingly oblivious to the semi-horrified stares. “No scar to prove it though, unfortunately. Did you know the tongue is the fastest healing muscle in the body? Still couldn’t taste anything for weeks.”

 

“He complained about it for weeks, too.” Vincent said, dryly.

 

Even as Zack burst into laughter, Sephiroth leaned forwards. “There weren’t any… ill effects from being close to the reactor for that long?”

 

“...”

 

When it became obvious that Cloud was blatantly ignoring him, he turned his gaze to Vincent, who stared at Sephiroth with all the emotion of carved marble. Zack was starting to pick up on the resemblance between his date and this mysterious and kinda dusty stranger.

 

Vincent turned to Cloud, dismissing Sephiroth’s appeal for information, and raised an eyebrow. “Last I recall, you threatened to ‘make his insides into outsides, use the resulting carnage as pancake batter, and then feed his fully baked gut pancakes to him’ if you ever saw him again.” Sephiroth didn’t quite choke on air, but it was a near thing. Cloud stretched lazily.

 

“Ye-eah, and I would, except Zack’s been stealing all the sharp silverware over the last few minutes, and I like Zack. I don’t want to get him covered in blood. He’s already glittery, it would ruin the look.”

 

Vincent stared at Zack as though he’d been personally wronged by his existence somehow preventing a gory murder. Or maybe it was because Cloud said he liked him? The look _was_ eerily similar to the one Aerith’s mom had given him when he’d come by the first time to take Aerith out to eat. Zack considered scooting his chair back a few feet, and also maybe grabbing one of the knives he’d confiscated.

 

“Okay, well now that we’ve both gone, I’ve got the best story about Vincent and this chocobo farmer-”

 

“It appears it's already time for me to go.” Vincent stood. Cloud looked dismayed.

 

“What, no, c’mon, I’ll stop! You haven't even had any shots.”

 

“I’m not having any shots.”

 

“Why’d you even come if you’re not going to have some shots!”

 

“You stole my coffin. I sleep in that.” Vincent sounded disapproving.

 

Zack breathed a silent sigh of relief. At least there was no corpse in his house! Knowing that Cloud was probably not a serial grave robber was good too.

 

“You’re the one who _taught_ me blackmail, and also thievery. This is pretty much your own fault. You made your coffin, now lie in it.” Zack muffled a laugh at Cloud’s words, but also felt a little responsible, considering it was his house that currently held the coffin. And he didn’t exactly want to have Vincent come pick it up while he was anywhere near the vicinity.

 

“Cloud, if he sleeps in, uh, that, maybe it’s best to give it back.” Zack wasn’t going to say it out loud, but the dude had an air about him, kinda like he hadn’t slept for 40 years. Or maybe like a particularly disgruntled and old cat woken up from a nap?

 

“You’re no fun,” Cloud muttered, ignoring Zack’s offended gasp, “and that’s not why he’s actually here anyways.”  
  
Curious enough to ignore the slight against his person, Zack turned to Vincent, head tilted in question. Cloud was right next to him, so he was ignoring the scary red-eyed death glare for now. Vincent looked into the distance, rather dramatically.

 

“I’m here to wrap up some unfinished business.”

 

At that exact moment, the main door opened again, drawing all eyes to the two figures in the doorway. Zack recognized one as Doctor Hojo, which already had him bristling, and the other as one of the Turks. Knife, Zack thought their name was? It looked like they were trying to warn the not-so-good doctor, probably about Cloud’s vampire partycrasher, and Hojo was rather blatantly shrugging them off. Looking a bit fed up, Knife held their hands up in a ‘whatever, not my problem, have fun dying’ gesture, and walked off.

 

At about the same time, Hojo caught sight of the rather incongruous group sitting around Zack, specifically Vincent. His sneer dropped off his face so fast he’d’ve missed it if he’d blinked. Cloud muttered something about how Vincent pulled off the dramatic entrance better. Vincent himself remained implacable.

 

“Ah. There’s the business now.”

 

All the color in Hojo’s face drained away, leaving him looking grey and rather ill. He stumbled back, and then turned tail and ran, the doors automatically slamming shut behind him. Cloud procured a knife from somewhere, despite the fact that all the silverware had gravitated over to Zack’s side of the table, and tucked it into Vincent’s cloak(s?), patting it gently. “Call me if you need help.”

 

“I don’t have a cell phone.” Vincent said as he somehow scaled the chandelier chain and vanished into the vent system.  
  
“That only worked when you actually didn’t have a phone! I’ll shut your data off and you won’t be able to look up MCR playlists on youtube, don’t test me!” Cloud called after him, before turning to Zack. “I’m serious, I know he has a cell phone. I texted him on his cell phone about stealing his bed, look,” He pulled out his phone and opened the contact list. Zack did his best to ignore the contact names in the recent texts, which varied from ‘tht one mafia head who owes me’ to a contact with five bee emojis in place of their name. He opened the contact named ‘batman knockoff’ and gestured at the logs. His message said ‘partycrashing at shinras b there or b square (and also sleepless bc i stole ur coffin)’, while the response was just a water gun emoji and nothing else.

 

“He doesn’t know that the gun emoji changes on iPhone.” Cloud confided to Zack, smugly. Sephiroth cleared his throat pointedly, still staring at the vent opening Vincent and his 200 cloaks had vanished into.

 

“This development seems. Concerning.”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Cloud said, scratching the sleeping Fenrir behind the ears, “I hope nobody was too attached to that guy.”

 

“Attached -- that man is my _father_?”

 

“Well, I mean. Yikes.” Cloud watched Fenrir’s leg twitch as if the dog’s sleep movements was the most interesting thing he’d seen all evening. “Sorry about your luck.”

 

Zack, who had been about to intervene, shut his mouth with an audible clack. Sephiroth narrowed his eyes menacingly, and Zack started sliding the silverware onto the ground with his arm, in hopes of maybe preventing things from getting too messy.

 

“You can’t just bring your local recluse to a party to _assassinate_ someone, regardless of the past--”

 

“Oh right, let’s hear all about morality from _you,_ of all people--”

 

“I know what I did, and I wasn’t in my right--”

 

“Well, do you know what Hojo did, because I--”

 

“I know about Hojo’s actions better than most--”

 

“Oh, that’s a perfect defense, you’re practically an angel--”

 

 **“** HEY! **”** Zack yelled, putting himself in the danger zone to try and break up the escalating argument. After ascertaining that Cloud, who was still a bit snarly, wasn’t about to start throwing plates across the room, he turned to Sephiroth.

 

“Seph, I’m sorry, but could we try to tone this down a bit? We’re in public! This is surprising, coming from you!” Zack really had thought he was normally a more private person about this kind of thing.

 

Sephiroth looked askance at him, caught off-guard.

 

“Zack, what are you talking about?”

 

“Look, I get it, my bad, okay? I really didn't mean to bring your ex and his cloaked assassin hermit friend to Thanksgiving, it was just an unfortunate series of weird coincidences!”

 

“Wh-- _ex?!”_

 

“Yeah, ex! I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t notice, like, what else could explain the weird and uncomfortable tension between you two!”

 

Cloud looked at him with an expression like he’d just bitten into something incredibly sour. “I met him after he burned my house down in a fit of insensible terror, Zack.”

 

“Hojo was responsible for his resulting therapy sessions and had him tail me for weeks, Zack.” Sephiroth chimed in, looking drained.

 

“Wh-- he _what?_ You _what? Hojo what?”_

 

“The Nibelheim Incident, Zack.”

 

“Oh my _god!_ I thought that was you, I don't know, getting drunk and accidentally wrecking a bar or something, not _committing arson!”_

 

Sephiroth looked away. “Well, I didn’t _intend_ to commit arson.”

 

“I’m about to _not intend_ to gut you from tip to toe, turn you inside out, and break all your bones!”

 

“That was an actual declaration of intent, what are you--”

 

“Woah, woah! Enough!! Seph, why don’t you go check on your asshole dad! Maybe we can talk about this later!” Zack gave him the firmest Angeal impression he could manage, and Sephiroth stalked off, looking significantly stressed. Cloud sunk back into his chair, wound tight as a bowstring. Zack flopped down into his own.

 

“Man,” he said, eying Fenrir, who had slept through all of it, “this was a lot more stressful than I expected.”

 

Cloud tilted a hand from side to side. “Nah, this was about what I thought it’d be like.”

 

There was a moment of shared silence, before Zack got up, rolling his shoulders to stretch them out. “Well. I’m sure Aerith has leftovers that aren’t doused in glitter. What say you, shall we get outta here?” He offered Cloud a hand.

 

Cloud took it, pulling his jacket on and placing Fenrir back in his bag. “There’s still like, a ton of Shinra funders here, right?”

 

“Uh, yeah? Why?”

 

Cloud pulled a taped up box out from under the table. At Zack’s questioning look, he said “Vincent. I asked him for a dramatic exit. Get ready to sprint.”

 

“What’s in the box?” Zack asked, beyond being worried at this point.

 

Cloud slit the top with a knife, and hurled it across the room, startled screams sounding as the flaps opened, revealing the contents to be-  
  
  
“Bees.”

**Author's Note:**

> drop me a comment if you enjoyed or have thoughts! <3 also just ask if you need something tagged!


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